


un secreto perdido al calor de tenerte

by Lire_Casander



Series: gotas en un laberinto [6]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Cheating, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Islamophobia, M/M, Misogyny, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Racism, Racist Language, Slurs, Transphobia, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Vomiting, islamophobic language, transphobic language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28877277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: carlos reyes has a secret, one secret he doesn’t want anyone to know. his life is crumbling down around him and tk strand, his supposed best friend, seems to be dealing with something of his own, leaving carlos to fend for himself. but one night, when he’s too exhausted and stressed out to function properly, he writes a post on the school’s gossip blog spilling his deepest secret under the guise of beingalmostanonymous. what he didn’t expect was for someone to email him about his big secret.ortheLove, SimonTarlos AU no one asked for.
Relationships: Alex/Mitchell, Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Grace Ryder/Judd Ryder (9-1-1 Lone Star), Marjan Marwani/Mateo Chavez, Owen Strand/Gwenyth Morgan, Owen Strand/Zoe, Paul Strickland/Josie, TK Strand/Alex
Series: gotas en un laberinto [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112216
Comments: 32
Kudos: 39
Collections: Carlos Reyes Week 2021





	1. prologue ~ austin high secrets

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to this little project i wanted to share with you all! this is my little baby, and it wouldn't have been posted without the help and hand-holding of the one and only Melo. i owe you my whole soul, my dear. 
> 
> i would like to dedicate this to my good friends Jillian, Jamie and Sy. they've showed so much interest and love in this story, and i couldn't be more grateful! you guys rock!
> 
> i hope you all enjoy this!
> 
> beta’ed by [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly/pseuds). any remaining mistakes are my own
> 
> title from _en el mundo genial de las cosas que dices_ by maldita nerea. it roughly translates into _a secret lost to the warmth of having you_
> 
> written for [carlos reyes week 2021](https://carlosreyesweek.tumblr.com/post/631367369198092288/announcing-carlos-reyes-week), **_day #6: what if/au + carlos and other members of the 126_**

**[august, 20th. 7:59 am]**

Welcome to Austin High, all new freshmen! This will be your home for the next four years, and we hope you enjoy your time here and add up to the ongoing streak of gossip and news on this very same blog!

Like every other year, here at Austin High Secrets, we will be making a background check on the hottest new people! Keep an eye out for updates!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[august, 31st. 2:46 pm]**

Here we are, one more day, with a new background check on the hottest people among the freshmen! Today we’ll be talking about TK Strand.

No one knows his real name, and we all fancy a mysterious guy. Green eyes to die for, a witty sense of humor, and he plays basketball! We bet he has perfect abs and a V-cut to worship. Beware, seniors! This hottie has come to stay in our court and in our hearts!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[september, 1st. 10:29 am]**

Here at Austin High we’re all for inclusivity and representation, but one thing is to be aware of the diversity of students roaming our halls, and another completely different is to allow one of them to dictate how we do things around our school.

Why would we let the lonely Muslim girl mandate on school hours and breaks? Because she says she _needs_ to pray? Maybe she should try and do it in the intimacy of her house, just like every other student does. Or have you seen anyone else complaining that the school doesn’t allow them to pray? No, and you won’t, because we _normal_ students know our boundaries and how and when to worship our God.

But not happy with trying to disturb our religious peace, Marjan Marwani (guess what? I’m going to call names! She deserves it!) wants the cafeteria to stop serving pork. Just bring your own lunch from home if you’re so _exquisite_! You know, Marwani, when you go live to a country that’s not your native one, you should adapt to the culture, not the other way around!

Who agrees with me?

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[september, 2nd. 5:09 pm]**

Has anyone noticed how hot Carlos Reyes has become? I swear he wasn’t this attractive last year! One could say that high school has done wonders on him. Any girl would be lucky to walk around holding hands with him, and I bet he has tons of cheerleaders rooting for him when he scores for our soccer team.

Any volunteers to tell us how good his kisses are?

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[september, 5th. 3:58 pm]**

How cool is that our librarian is also our Sex Ed teacher? We stan one Zoe Kinsey! Make sure you have all your questions ready for tomorrow’s session on safe sex at the theatre hall right after lunch. All students are welcome!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[september, 7th. 11:23 am]**

After the backlash from our latest post on a student, we have received several emails and submissions asking us to apologize, but we won’t. Since when is it a crime in this country to speak your mind? Everyone accusing us of racism and misogyny should know that we are nothing like that! You’re all a bunch of haters, that’s what you are.

For those of you who have shown support and love, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. We will keep up with our duty of informing everyone — haters or lovers — about the latest juicy gossip in Austin High!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[february, 22nd. 10:19 am]**

We’re on a roll this year! You all know by now our green-eyed TK Strand, but what you probably don’t know is that his father is the Fire Captain who will be coming tomorrow to talk about safety in schools and do some drills with us!

Captain Strand has been decorated for saving thousands during 9/11, so we will be welcoming a true hero to our school. We have been told that TK has inherited his father’s looks, so it doesn’t hurt that our personal hero is also a hot one! Get ready for a treat tomorrow!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[april, 14th. 9:26 am]**

Rumor has it that our very own Judd Ryder might not be single anymore! We’re still investigating who might be the lucky girl, but he’s been seen leaving a yellow rose in one of the freshmans’ lockers. Will keep reporting!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[april, 15th. 6:58 am]**

You will not believe it! We already know the identity of Judd Ryder’s secret girlfriend! It’s none other than ebony goddess Grace Haley. She’s the little sister of Hope Haley, our beloved senior cheerleader that will leave school at the end of this year to attend UT. Congratulations on the new couple!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[august, 21st. 7:47 am]**

Welcome to a new year at Austin High! Some things are changing, but others remain the same. Judd and Grace are still an item, and there’s a new guy in town! Let’s all welcome newcomer Mateo Chaves, coming right in from Amarillo!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[september, 10th. 4:12 pm]**

Power twins Josie and Alex Macon have made it their purpose to make everyone feel welcome in our school. Please make sure to drop by the late summer fair this afternoon and pick up one of the paper flowers they will be handing out at a booth the whole time. If you wear it tomorrow at school, we will know you’re one of us, out and proud!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[august, 23rd. 8:01 am]**

One more year, and who would have thought our soccer star Carlos Reyes would become captain of the team during his sophomore year? No one! But we’ve always rooted for him, and we’re happy to see him leading our team to the highest ranks in the championship!

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[february, 14th. 8:12 am]**

Happy Valentine’s Day! We’ve heard there might be an a capella group wandering the halls to sing to unsuspecting students as a gift from their Valentines. Will _you_ be one of the lucky ones? I hope as all hell my crush likes me back and chooses to show it with an a capella song.

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[august, 25th. 8:16 am]**

We are happy to announce that Alex Macon will be one of our Mods from this year on. Given that today marks the start of his junior year at high school, he will be signing some of the juiciest goss around the school. As you all know, he’s one of the hottest guys around, and one of the best students. He’s rumored to be valedictorian next year! 

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[november, 29th. 3:57 pm]**

Happy belated Thanksgiving, everyone! It seems that we have a new face in town! Coming right in from Chicago, we have Paul Strickland rushing into junior year. He seems nice and he’s hot enough to warm up the whole school with a smile.

Bets on who’ll be the girl to snatch him?

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[january, 3rd. 9:13 pm]**

Who would have thought Grace Haley would be such a disappointment? After Marjan Marwani has tried, once again, to shake up the already working system at school, Grace has taken her side.

Good thing it’s your junior year at school, Grace. I don’t think anyone would want to see your face for longer than strictly necessary. 

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[march, 17th. 6:27 pm]**

Have you ever kept a secret so big that it eats at you from the inside? I have, and the feeling isn’t as good as movies tell us it is. It’s corrosive, and it takes away every single moment of happiness that I could have had, because I was too scared to speak up.

I have a secret. But I don’t want it to be a secret any longer. I can’t keep it inside anymore.

I am bisexual. And luckily, I have friends and family who are supportive enough to help me take this big step and shout it out into the world. I am bisexual.

And I’m proud.

Posted by Alex Macon.

**[april, 22nd. 7:14 am]**

Rumor has it that heartthrob Alex Macon is already ready for the dating pool again. Beware, ladies and gents of Austin High, because our very own heartbreaker is back in the game and willing to try new things after coming out as bisexual last month!

Who will be the lucky one?

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[april, 29th. 1:03 pm]**

Austin High Secrets is smoking! Newcomer Paul Strickland and hottie Josie Macon are rumored to go on a date this evening at Alamo Drafthouse Cinema Village. Watch out, you popcorn eaters, because it seems that _Shutter Island_ is the movie of their choice! Does this mean that Josie will allow Paul to hold her hand throughout the scariest parts of the movie? But, more important — will there be a kiss by the end of the night?

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[april, 30th. 2:38 am]**

At Austin High we value telling the truth at all costs. That’s why we have this blog, so everyone can know the truth about others. Even if sometimes it’s a bit of unflattering goss and the people get mad, I feel like we _need_ to tell the truth.

We have a liar among us. And not just someone who’s cheated on an Algebra test (because, honestly, who hasn’t?) but someone who’s been lying about who he is and why he came to Austin in the first place. How can someone be so much of a fraud at sixteen? How can someone break hearts in millions of pieces and not give a single damn about it? You know who I’m talking about. You know him. He’s already broken our very own Queenie Josie’s heart.

Paul Strickland isn’t who he says he is. In fact, he isn’t even a _he_. It’s so disgusting, I have no words. How does it feel to lead someone on for fun? How does it feel to make someone fall for you only to laugh at her? 

You’re a big fat liar who lies, Paul Strickland. Or should I say _Paula_ Strickland?

Yeah, you all read that right. As much as Paul claims to be a guy, she was born a girl, and she’s been lying to all of us the whole year. 

So, if you support _her_ , you’re basically saying that she’s got a right to lie. And if you knew and said nothing, then you’re not better than _she_ is.

Beware of Strickland and her gang. They’re only a bunch of baddies who want to mock all of us.

Posted by Anonymous Mod.

**[august, 24th. 7:54 am]**

Welcome to a new year at Austin High! This will be my last year here, and I can’t be more excited. Changes are looming on the horizon, but together we will face them! Mr. Maroo will cheer some of us for the last time, but it’s a moment to celebrate and not to be sad. Let’s start this senior year with the hope that we will be entering a whole new world once it ends, but enjoying every second of our last moments here!

Posted by Alex Macon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun facts about writing this chapter!
> 
> * [High School — S.F. Austin High School](https://www.austinhighmaroons.org/) exists, and the fee to enter the soccer team is $125. Mr. Maroo is actually the mascot!
> 
> * [Alamo Drafthouse Cinema Village](https://drafthouse.com/austin/theater/village) also exists.


	2. chapter 1 ~ the first day

_—hands roam over his body, fingertips grazing the skin here and there, alternating between pinching nipples and caressing the hard planes of his abdomen, he’s writhing underneath the ministrations, his whole frame shaking with want and desire, as the fingers move impossibly closer to the waistband of his boxers, as that mouth is climbing up his chest and finding his own lips, and then one hand sneaks underneath his underwear and closes around him and everything explodes—_

Sweaty and panting, Carlos opens his eyes three minutes before his alarm blares off, the blinking green numbers mocking him when he checks the time. He groans. 

He’s been having these dreams — _wet nightmares_ as Iris has already called them — for longer than he’s willing to admit. It’s always the same dream, over and over; hands that touch him and drive him toward release, the same smile and the same eyes and the same hair fawning over him as though he’s some sort of deity worthy of worship. He wants back to his dream, back to this universe where everything is allowed and he doesn’t feel guilty for _wanting_ — because in real life he’s too much of a chicken to even think about these dreams that breathe life into him.

The alarm blasts off before he can even turn around. 

Carlos throws an arm over his eyes, grumbling as he chases the feeling of freedom his dreams give him. It is unsuccessful, anyway. He can’t slack off in bed any longer, and once he gets ready for his day he will have to hide his feelings away under seven locks for fear anyone finds out.

He’s utterly terrified that anyone who’s not either Iris or her sister Michelle discovers his deepest secret — and the identity of the person he’s had a crush on for years. That would be a disaster, he thinks to himself in the last effort to keep his sanity before he ditches his fantasy.

He sits up on the bed, not at all ready for the first day of school. He’s promised Iris that this year he will ride with her — despite her track record at parking awfully wrong every _single_ time. Therefore, he needs to be ready beforehand, and that means waking up a good half hour earlier to get ready. He makes the bed hastily before he jumps into the bathroom. He doesn’t want Alejandra to sneak in the shower before he gets the chance to even set foot inside the bathroom. 

Carlos is lucky enough that he manages to lock the door before his younger sister’s alarm can be heard on the other side of the corridor. He opens the screen and sets the water running before stepping beneath the spray and allowing the grime of the night to wash off him. He tries to keep his mind blank, but there’s no way he’s going to forget the dream he’s had so soon — the soft locks and almost translucent eyes — so all he can do is take matters into his own hands before things get out of control.

He still has a lot to get done before Alejandra will, invariably, try to tear down the bathroom door in her haste to get ready for her first day of freshman year — he’s heard _all_ about makeup and fashion and all the other stuff his sister has insisted is essential for her to make the best possible first impression now that she’s a high schooler.

Carlos is still thinking about the smile that haunts his dreams even as he steps out of the shower and his thoughts get tangled with Alejandra’s words about being a grown-up now, making for a jumbled puddle of nonsensical stuff in his brain. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear his mind, and he manages to scare away the thoughts that could only torture him until there’s only worry about Alejandra.

He’s toweling off his hair when, surely, a knock on the bathroom door comes followed by his sister's voice calling out, “Carlos, I need in! I’m already running late as it is! _¡Vamos, vamos!_ ” 

He rushes out, barely in time to see the blur of dark curls sliding inside the bathroom and the door locking up from the inside. He sighs. 

“ _Mijo_ ,” his mother says from the master room. “Are you already up? I need you.” 

Carlos doesn’t waste much time getting dressed — his soccer shirt and a pair of sweatpants — before peeking his head into his parentsʼ room. “Do you want me to get you breakfast?” he asks in a soft voice in the general direction of the bed, where he can see the lump that's his mother beneath the covers, just the tip of her own curls peeking out. 

“Wouldn’t that be amazing?” his mother tells him. He canʼt see her, but he can hear the soft attempt at a smile in her voice. “Iʼm in the mood for pancakes.” 

“Pancakes it is, then!” he chirps, feigning a cheerfulness he doesn’t feel. He gets back to the corridor and walks the short distance to the small kitchen in their tiny apartment. 

It’s been hard for him — for everyone in the family, after all — to fall back into a healthy pace after the hell that his parents’ messy divorce has been for the past months. Carlos reflects on what has been happening — on the yells and the fights and the discovery that there was another family somewhere else — and how everyone has reacted to the news that made his little bubble implode barely half a year before.

Alejandra has been the one to take it better, as it seems. Carlos has seen her grow a little bit wilder, but he has also blamed it to her being at _that_ age. His mother, though — his mother didn’t react quite well _at all_. Carlos thinks that he would have also lost his mind, had he been in her shoes; but he’s been leading their newly found journey for six months now and he’s pretty tired. Now that he’s back to school — now that he can’t take care of his mother and make sure she gets out of bed and watch her eat something at literally any given moment of the day — Carlos is worrying that she might fade away completely. He doesn’t think he’d survive losing his mother as well.

Losing his father to his new family — to the blonde younger woman and the toddler who have been his father’s secret for so long — has been hard enough on Carlos. Remembering his father’s lectures on how to be a decent man still hurts Carlos deep inside; he can’t dissociate his father’s words from his father’s actions, and it pains him to understand that what his father meant by _being decent_ was that Carlos shouldn’t leave the path that God had paved in front of him, never astray for one second. His father never said anything about leaving one path to join another, unless it was to leave in sin with another man.

Carlos’ father has always been very vocal about his blatant homophobia, which Carlos finds deeply contradictory — and it would be amusing if it weren’t for the fact that it’s actually harmful — since his father had been lying to them for years before getting caught.

“On with the pancakes,” he mutters to himself as he putters around the kitchen, taking out pans and pots until he finds what he’s looking for. He’s going to make the best pancakes in the world, if only because it’s the first real thing his mother has desired in months. 

He sets to work as his mind races through the most painful memories.

He’s been stuck the whole summer in Austin, taking care of his mother, while Alejandra was forced to spend those weeks with their father in his new house, a two-story building in the nicest part of Austin. Alejandra had bitched the whole time, either through text messages or during their FaceTime sessions. Carlos hadn’t had the heart to tell her that she wasn’t supposed to _hate_ spending time with their father.

He knows he would have loathed every single second of it.

Carlos has seen how the situation has destroyed his mother — how the happy woman from his childhood had become the shadow of depression that she is these days. How she can’t get out of bed long enough to cook or sit on the couch with them. How she’s missed Alejandra’s performance at the school’s spring festival and his very own championship match in May. How she’s just slipping through the cracks of an existence she wasn’t supposed to experience.

“You making pancakes?” Alejandra startles him, showing up out of nowhere. When he looks at her, he’s greeted with red lips and golden eye shadows, and a dress that’s impossibly short. “What?” she dares him when she notices his gaze lingering on her a little too long.

“Are you sure Mom would be comfortable knowing you’re going to school like that?”

“Mom isn’t here to complain, and I doubt she’ll even see me,” Alejandra retaliates, snatching a few grapes from a bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. “And you’re not Dad, you can’t say anything.”

“I can say whatever I please,” Carlos tells her. “I just think you should dress more, ehm, conservative.”

“Don’t start that bullshit, you too, Carlos,” she warns him. “I’m already fourteen. I’m almost a grown-up.”

“What about a compromise?” Carlos offers as he keeps whisking the dough. “What about you wear that dress to school, but tone down a bit on the makeup?”

“Would that make you stop harassing me into fitting whatever ideal of Latina you have in your mind?”

“Don’t be cheeky on me,” Carlos points at her with the mixer. “It fits the ideal of my little sister who I don’t want growing up.”

“You old sap,” she teases him, swatting him on the arm before sitting down on a chair to wait for the pancakes to be done. 

It still takes him some time, but he's become a professional at breakfast food — it's the only thing he was able to cook at the beginning of this half0life they're all living through — so he has the pancakes in a couple of plates soon enough. He sprinkles powdered sugar over half of them, and pushes the dish toward Alejandra; for the others, he rummages through the cabinets until he finds the syrup. He pours a generous amount of caramel over them before placing the plate on a tray. 

“Iʼm taking these to mom,” he explains. “When I come back, should I expect you ready for school, face freshly washed?” 

Alejandra tsks. “Hey!” she calls out when heʼs halfway through the corridor. “You didn't save any for you!” 

“Iʼve had some fruit before you came out of the shower,” he lies over his shoulder. Now is not the time to explain that heʼs got no appetite whatsoever — and after having gone over their monthly payments, Carlos has found out that they could be a hundred bucks short, so heʼs kind of cutting off on some things, including his own food intake for as long as he can without being caught. 

He’s already thought about leaving the soccer team this year and finding a part-time job. As much as he wants to go to Cornell on that full scholarship heʼs been promised, Carlos is aware that leaving his mother and his sister in this situation isn’t advisable. 

“Mom,” he calls out, entering the room through the door heʼs left ajar before. He hasnʼt knocked, hoping that his mother is still willing to eat. 

He’s met with a deep silence only broken by soft snores coming from the general direction of the bed. Carlos sighs. He navigates the space in the darkness, leaving the tray on the nightstand by his motherʼs side, fingers grazing the bottle of pills that she keeps close to her at night. 

He exits the room holding back tears. When heʼs back outside, he closes the door entirely and rests his head on the wood. Carlos tries to catch his hitched breath and calm himself down — heʼs of no help if he canʼt control his emotions. But he canʼt stand the fact that his mother doesn’t feel like she can _live_ without sleeping pills and Brintellix. 

Carlos takes a few moments to compose himself back before exclaiming, “Alejandra! Grab your bag and get ready! Iris won't wait for us!” 

He rushes back to his room to pick his backpack and plasters on a fake smile when he meets his sister by the entrance door. 

“Let's go,” he says, nudging her out of the house before she can ask about their mother. 

He has to be the strongest out of the three of them. He _needs_ to. 

It has to be enough until they all are back on their feet for real.

* * *

The first day of school is always cathartic for TK. It marks the end of the summer — the end of his trip back home to New York City with his mom — but this year it also marks the beginning of his last months in Austin. By this time in twelve months, TK will most likely be immersed in his college classes up at New York University, just like he’s always wanted.

Only, he hadn’t expected to start his senior high school year wishing it would never end.

As he grabs the keys to the tartan vehicle he calls _car_ , TK reflects on the months passed and the experiences he’s lived through, and he shivers. There’s so much going on right now in his life, so many things he would love to share with his friends now that he’s back — now that he’s been back for almost a week — but they all will have to wait. There are so many things he can’t talk about right now, as much as he loves his friends.

Alex Macon is one of those secrets.

“TK, have you had breakfast?” he hears his father rummaging around the kitchen. He sighs.

“I’m already running late, Dad!” he calls out, hoping that the threat of being late to school on his first day will help his case. His father has always been a sucker for punctuality — that’s probably the only thing he has in common with his ex-wife.

“Surely you can spare ten minutes to eat a healthy snack before starting your last first day of high school!”

Reluctantly, he makes his way back to the kitchen, dropping the keys into his front pocket. “I’ll be late,” he grumbles as he takes a seat on one of the stools, his father already pushing a bowl with cereal and some red berries in front of him.

“You’re running like, half an hour earlier than usual, son,” his father chuckles. “I can see someone’s eager to start his last year.”

“I’m just impatient to meet my friends,” TK tries to explain, spoon in hand and halfway toward his mouth. “I’ve been back a week already, but everyone’s been too busy to meet and I’ve just missed them.”

“Sure you did, TK,” his father coos. “It’s a good thing that some of them are moving upstate with you, then.”

“Paul is going to Columbia, and Carlos got a full ride to Cornell thanks to his soccer performance,” TK explains around a mouthful of cereal. “Gosh, Dad, this is so good! Which brand is it?”

His father chuckles again. “Your favorite,” he says. “Now, c’mon, let’s get ready!”

“You said I was half an hour early!”

“I lied,” his father urges him. TK checks the clock, realizing that he is, in fact, almost late to pick up his friends, and he jumps off the stool.

“Thanks, Dad,” he jabs back at his father. “Now Marjan will tease me _endlessly_ today about being a slowpoke.”

He doesn’t even hear his father’s reply, too busy picking up his backpack and rushing outside, where the car he inherited a year and a half ago is waiting under the first sunrays. Despite knowing that he’s running a little late, he can’t help the cheery feeling in his gut. _Today’s gonna be a great day_ , he thinks to himself as he hops into the car and starts the engine, maneuvering to get it out of the parkway and into the road.

The first he picks up is Mateo, who happens to live across the street from Paul. TK drives right beside his yard, pulling the car up in front of Paul’s house, and waits until both of them open the doors and get inside the vehicle. As always, Paul takes the passenger’s seat while Mateo chooses to ride in the back seat. They both buckle themselves among laughs while TK veers the car back into the traffic and toward Sorrento’s, their favorite drive-through coffee shop before they pick Marjan up. 

“One Americano, one latte, one caramel macchiato with almond milk and an extra of caramel flavor, and one hot tea,” TK orders, their different choices for morning beverages already memorized after so many months of shared caffeine-induced trips to school. 

“Add a pinch of milk to the tea and make it a chai latte,” Mateo pipes in. 

“Since when do you have Marjan’s order so on point?” Paul questions as TK adds that last bit to their order. 

“Itʼs not so difficult to remember _a bit of milk_ , now is it?” Mateo shrugs. TK glimpses back at him through the rearview mirror in time to see him blushing slightly, but he doesn’t think anything of it. 

“I see,” Paul says, mostly to himself. 

“Stop doing your thing,” TK tells him. He stretches out to grab the paper tray with their drinks. “Man, I should learn to pull up closer.” 

“Yeah, you should,” Paul agrees as he takes the tray off TKʼs hands. “And Iʼm not doing _anything_.” 

“It sounded a lot like you were trying to read too much into Mateo’s words,” TK admonishes his friend with a scoff. “And I don’t want to listen to that. Iʼm dying to hear all about your summer shenanigans!” 

He manages to divert their attention back to their holidays and what theyʼve done — it's not that he's been out of reach for two months, but it isn’t the same to FaceTime with his friends. He’s missed their banter and their jokes; he's missed Paul teasing Marjan and Mateo, and heʼs missed the way everything falls into place when they’re together. 

“What do you think it's going to be the biggest goss this year?” Paul asks as TK is pulling up near Marjan’s building, the girl already waiting for them outside the front door, one hand playing with her hijab. “Iʼm more than ready to give up my _throne_ ,” he continues, making full air quotation marks. 

“Hey, guys!” Marjan greets upon opening the door and hopping into the back seat almost colliding against Mateo. “Long time, no see! I've missed you while I’ve been in Florida!” 

“Here, have your drink,” Mateo says shyly, picking the tea out of the paper tray that Paul is already offering from his seat. 

“That’s a tea latte,” TK explains. “Somehow Mateo remembers you like it like that.” 

“That’s so sweet, Mateo,” she coos. TK can see her sipping from her cup through the rearview mirror as he maneuvers backwards and sets the car towards the school. “And it's not tea latte, it’s called _chai_ , you dorks!” she jabs at them. 

Mateo blushes by her side; Paul snickers as he too sips from his paper cup, and TK laughs openly while he drives them to their first day of school. 

The rest of the ride is a nice change of pace from missing his friends, TK realizes. The easy back and forth in their chatter, the lightness that fills him whenever heʼs around them, those are the feelings that settle in his soul along with the heaviness of all the secrets he canʼt tell them. 

They laugh about their summers — Marjan having come back from Miami three days before, Paul having enjoyed a full month back in Chicago and Mateo having spent the whole summer helping his _abuelos_ around the house — and TK keeps his own retelling of his holidays in a light tone. He talks to them about being back in the city after so many months and he even expresses his grief at the fact that his old friends have moved on after so many years of only seeing him once in a blue moon. He talks about the walks along the lake in Central Park and about the new ice cream parlors he’s visited these past weeks. 

He conveniently forgets to tell them about who he would have loved to share those moments with. He never tells them who his heart would have wanted by his side all those months in New York City the same he doesn’t tell them about the real reasons why he left Austin in a hurry after school.

TK hasn’t had the best couple of years of his life. Ever since his mother definitely gave up her custody rights, when he was around fifteen, in favor of his father — because she worked abroad more than she would have wanted to, and she couldn’t take care of her son as well as she was expected to — TK has felt oddly out of his depth. Up until then, he’d been attending high school in Austin and visiting with his mother during holidays or whenever she was free long enough to travel south and spend some time with them. But once Gwenyth Strand gave up on her son, TK hadn’t felt like he belonged anywhere. It was as though he’d always been between two worlds, and when reality crashed in, TK wasn’t ready for the collapse that realizing his own mother didn’t want him had been.

Objectively, he’d always known that his mother was the busiest one out of his parents. While Owen was a firefighter — and the best at it, after having survived his whole team back when the towers fell and having rebuilt a station from scratch in Austin — Gwenyth was a really demanded lawyer with tons of clients overseas. TK never stood a chance to remain in the city with his mother.

But when pushes came to shoves, TK found refuge in dangerous activities. And that’s when he’s crossed paths with Alex Macon. He had been loitering around some neighborhood or another, looking for another fix, when he’d stepped against some sturdy surface that was made of flesh and bones. When he’d looked up, he’d seen his reflection in those eyes that had been haunting him for months at school.

TK has always known heʼs attracted to other boys. He’s just never talked about it with anyone. He doesn’t think it's anyoneʼs business, and he still doesn’t understand why he has to come out when straight people don’t need to. But he felt like he had been run over by a truck upon seeing Alex. He’s had the longest crush on Austin High bad boy — alabaster skin and brown eyes that dig deep into TKʼs soul — and he wasn't about to miss his chance. 

What started as a funny secret — TK wasn’t out and didn’t have any interest in publicizing his relationship status on Austin High Secrets — evolved to become something that TK couldn’t control. Just as the drugs he’d been snatching to feel better slowly overcome his senses, his relationship with Alex separated him from everyone he knew. He began withdrawing from his usual gang until Carlos was just a distant memory in the rearview mirror of his childhood. When Paul entered the picture, TK was so far gone that he almost didn’t recognize himself in the mirror any longer.

Good thing Paul Strickland wasn’t like most people, and he could see through TK’s antics.

It doesn’t matter anymore, TK thinks as he drives. After being found out by his father in May, bottle of pills in his hand and mind completely blown, TK has been under watch for _months_. Only Paul knows half of the story — the half that’s about drugs and addiction and almost overdosing — and he isn’t about to explain the full story to anyone else.

He’s already spent his whole summer messaging with Alex after a big fight that threatened to tear him in two, and he can’t help the rising bubbles of butterflies in his stomach whenever he thinks he gets to see Alex on a daily basis again. Still, he doesn’t think he can tell his friends now, after all — not without disclosing the other big relationship in his life. He doesn’t want things to change between them — and he knows they wonʼt judge him, if how things went down with Paul last year are any indicator on their stance about the queer community. 

TK remains uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the trip until heʼs pulling up in the school parking lot. Mateo teases him about that, but TK shrugs it off. They see Carlos and Iris joining Grace and Judd by the entrance door, and they start walking their way when TK sees it. 

There’s ruckus by the school gardens in front of the building, next to the Subaru that Alex drives. TK feels the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips before he can register what heʼs looking at. 

There’s a crowd fawning around Alex — the Greek god that heʼs become, clad in a white t-shirt and tighter-than-tight jeans — and heʼs reveling in the attention. TKʼs mouth waters just at the thought of being able to kiss those plump lips. Alex is speaking, the crowd laughing as he moves his hands in front of his body to make his point come across. TK bites down on his lip, ignoring Paul who's trying to drag him inside the building. 

And, because he isn’t expecting it, so engrossed in admiring his boyfriend from afar, the downfall catches him unguarded and agape. 

Alex stops talking when Mitchell, from the basketball team, interrupts him and says something that has the crowd roaring with laughter. Alex looks at him fondly, never noticing TK in the distance, and reaches out to touch Mitchellʼs arm. The mere movement sets TKʼs insides on fire, but what happens next destroys him. 

Alex leans in, slowly, deliberately, and places a soft kiss on Mitchellʼs lips — short and sweet, just a peck, but it's enough to shatter TKʼs world in a million tiny pieces. 

He makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, almost animalistic, as he stumbles over his own feet, eyes still trained to the spot where Alex is still all draped over Mitchell. 

“Hey, TK, are you okay?” Paul tugs at his sleeve. “Cʼmon, man, you're staring, and you don't want Macon to come at you for that.”

“No—no, I don't,” TK manages to stammer, following Paul inside, in the wake of the rest of his gangʼs steps. 

He could have never imagined that a simple peck could hurt that much — but then again, he had never had his dream come true to vanish into thin air after two months of pure bliss. 

The sound of his heart breaking is the only echo he hears ringing in his ears for the rest of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun facts about writing this chapter!
> 
> * [Drive-Through Coffee Shop — Sorrento’s Coffee Drive-Thru](http://sorrentoscoffeedrivethru.com/) exists, as do the drinks featured in this chapter.


	3. chapter 2 ~ the second week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **chapter warnings:** verbal abuse, hints at panic attacks
> 
> thank you so much to my lovely Melo, who's been enduring this hellish story for the longest time and she's been betaing it despite the high amounts of angst. i love you, dear!

“Iʼm so auditioning for the fall play at the Drama Club,” Iris announces as she flops down on their table at the cafeteria. Her apple juice perilously shakes on top of the tray she’s dropped on the surface. “I can totally sing _Cabaret_.”

“I don't doubt it for a second,” TK tells her, looking up from his sandwich. “But there will be a lot of people auditioning, Iris. Josie has already said she’s getting the part.” 

“Itʼs cute that you think she can take the spotlight from me.”

Paul shoves her playfully on the shoulder as she speaks, earning himself a glare from Iris. 

Carlos snickers into his juice. He’s been listening to Iris talking about the auditions for the whole week and a half that theyʼve been attending school, heʼs tired of it but Iris is still amusing. Carlos doesn’t doubt she’s aware of how badly she sings — but Iris has decided that this year she’s going to step on Josieʼs toes just because. 

Carlos knows they all want revenge for how she treated Paul last year — for the havoc that she created and the hell that she turned his life into with her selfishness. That's why neither he nor the rest speak up when Iris expresses her desire to steal the attention from Josie, or when TK gets all defensive of Paul or when Mateo and Marjan gang up to shelter Paul from the abusive dicks that still think it's cool to stomp onto his things and spread rumors about him. Grace is the one in charge of keeping Judd in line when he wants to clock some of the guys in the football team because they keep saying slurs. 

“When do the auditions start?” Marjan pipes in, leaving her tray on the table and moving quickly to allow Mateo — who's always closely following her — to set his tray as well and sit down beside her. 

“Thursday after third period,” Iris replies. “Michelle has already offered to help me with my chords.” 

“You still have a couple of days,” TK smiles. “Youʼve got this!” 

The group starts talking all at the same time just about the time when Judd and Grace show up — ever the gentleman, Judd is balancing both trays in his big hands. Carlos grins when he sees them, the very first couple out of their group of friends. 

He wishes he could have something like that — a love so pure and transparent. Evidently, Carlos knows that Judd and Grace don't have a perfect relationship — the group has witnessed one too many arguments between them — but they always come out of them stronger. Carlos knows that they will be attending their wedding shortly after high school is done, even if they are all going to college. 

Judd leans in to give Grace a quick peck, and the table erupts in catcalls and whistles, led by Paul. TK shakes his head and goes back to his sandwich, long fingers wrapping around it possessively. 

Carlos tunes everyone else out, focusing on his friend and his plush lips closing around the bread. He gulps, trying to will away the uncomfortable feeling in his groin that makes his pants grow tighter. Those lips and those hands star in his wildest dreams — the ones that touch him and set him on fire every night —and Carlos doesn’t think he can survive the oblivious air surrounding TK Strand. 

Carlos ducks his head in an attempt to hide the obvious blush that's creeping up his neck. Iris nudges him below the table, making him look up briefly and lock eyes with her; a short moment passes by while she smiles knowingly at him, teeth flashing white. Carlos shakes his head almost imperceptibly, trying to send her a message she can understand — that heʼs fine and that she can’t say a thing. 

Ever since Iris and Michelle found out about him —sometime around their freshman year in high school —they have tried to set him up with different guys from all over town. They have never suggested anyone from school, fully aware that he doesn’t plan to be out until heʼs far away to college, and when he started to admit to himself that whatever he felt for his friend wasn't exactly _just_ friendship. 

Iris had arched an eyebrow at him upon finding out about his infatuation. Michelle had simply patted his shoulder. “Youʼll learn not to pine after straight guys, Reyes,” sheʼd told him mysteriously. 

Carlos had dismissed those words, still not fully ready to admit to his feelings, and completely baffled that heʼs found solace in sharing his secret with people who accept and understand him. 

Objectively, he knows that his group of friends would be supportive — they all closed ranks around Paul after he was outed as a trans man, no questions asked. But Carlos isn’t ready for them to know the other half of his secret. 

He doesn’t know how TK would take it if he ever found out Carlos has a big crush on him that hasn't diminished with time. 

Their friendship is on eggshells these days. Carlos canʼt pinpoint the exact moment when he lost his best friend of several years — the rest would argue that he hasnʼt _lost_ TK, but his heart tells him otherwise — he's been mourning his friend for months now. He’s aware that it's partly his fault, since heʼs been withdrawing from everyone for months after his parentsʼ messy divorce. 

He still misses the late nights at either TKʼs or his house, popcorn and movies queued on Netflix, curled around each other under a blanket on the coldest days of winter. He misses his motherʼs voice calling them for dinner, and Captain Strandʼs orders to go to bed early on the makeshift mattress on TKʼs bedroom floor. 

But what Carlos misses the most is that real laugh that he hasnʼt heard coming from TKʼs throat in years.

TK is giving them one of his fake smiles — the one Carlos recognizes from the early days of the two stray Strands recently uprooted from New York. TK had been a shy kid with a heavy weight on his shoulders when his father all but dragged him down to Texas after winning a very difficult and very draining divorce trial. Or so Carlosʼ father had explained to him, lips quirked in disdain because God doesn’t approve of broken marriages. 

Carlos wants to punch those words back into his father's mouth right now. “Hypocrite,” he mutters under his breath.

While he preached about perfect marriages, Carlosʼ father had been sneaking around with other women until he got one pregnant.

Carlos looks up in time to catch TK staring back at him, a silent question in his eyes. They hold each other’s gaze briefly before noise from the other side of the cafeteria catches their attention. Carlos follows TKʼs eyes lingering across the space until they land on Alex Macon, and TK frowns. 

Carlos doesn’t understand the sudden hurt that flashes on TKʼs features, too fast for anyone to pick up on it — anyone who hasnʼt grown up getting acquainted to those impossibly green eyes and their bottomless well of emotions. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Alex’s sister dragged Paul through the mud last year and TK feels protective of his new best friend, but Carlos has the inkling that it's more than that. 

Carlos looks down once again at his tray after he catches sight of Alex leaning in to touch Mitchell, from the basketball team. They have been awfully close these past days, ever since the first day of school. Officially, it’s Alex’s first relationship that's openly queer after coming out as bisexual in one of the Austin High Secrets blog posts. Maybe that's what brothers TK after all. 

Perhaps TK supports his friend Paul because Paul is straight after all — a boy who likes girls, in the end. Perhaps TK has trouble reconciling the idea of gay people openly dating in front of him. 

“What do you say, we go see Carlos’ practice after class?” Marjan suggests in the general direction of TK. Carlos can see him flinching back into focus, nodding shakily.

“That’s a great idea,” TK agrees. “Wasn’t Judd going to be there as well?”

Upon hearing his name, the taller boy spins around from talking to his girlfriend. “Be where? After class I have a dentist appointment, so practice for me, I’m afraid.”

“But I can go watch Carlos kick ass at practice,” Grace pipes in. “It’ll be much more fun than studying for whatever pop quiz Mr. Abernathy wants us to take tomorrow.”

“Just one week of school, and we’re already swamped up in work,” Mateo complains. “I’d rather enjoy the good weather while it lasts.”

Marjan snickers, inching closer to him. Carlos thinks that anyone should be blind not to pick up on whatever’s going on between these two. “That’s what we’re going to do later,” she explains. “Carlos’ soccer practice is in open air today.”

“Plus, we’ll get to see the cheerleaders and their own auditions,” Paul says, a little too cheerfully. Carlos pats his arm with his free hand. “Nothing like a good show to lift our spirits after a horrible day at school.”

They all agree. TK goes back to chewing on his sandwich, eyes never leaving the tray ever again until they’re all ready to get out of the cafeteria and come back to their classes — this year after lunch they always end up scattered in different classes, but it’s only a couple of hours before recess. Carlos follows Grace and Iris to their English class, since his own Chem class is only a couple of rooms over.

“Someday, Reyes,” Iris says mysteriously, stopping short of her classroom door. “Someday, you’ll grow the nerve to actually say something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hisses, nervously looking over his shoulder to Grace, who seems too engrossed in her phone to be paying attention. But he’s never at ease when Grace is around — she’s no Paul and doesn’t pick up on people’s emotions as far as their friend, but she can be a force of nature to be reckoned with. Carlos has seen Grace know exactly what was going on without even having to ask any question.

It’s kind of scary, if he’s being honest, that some people have the ability to read souls just like that.

“C’mon, Carlos,” Grace effectively joins the conversation. “Everyone knows you have the hots for TK.”

“Wha—Every—everyone?” he stammers. He’s so taken aback by her words that he almost drops his books to the ground. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you know _exactly_ what we’re talking about,” Iris points out. She’s playing with one of her long locks when Carlos gathers himself enough to actually look up.

“Did you tell her?” he hisses, pointing to Grace, who hasn’t stopped looking at her own phone screen, much to Carlos’ chagrin.

“Nobody has told me anything,” Grace explains, finally lifting her gaze from the phone. “But it’s evident, at least to me. I may have exaggerated when I said _everyone_ , to be frank. I doubt anyone out of Iris, Michelle or myself knows.”

“Fantastic,” Carlos exclaims. “Fan— _fucking_ —tastic. Now it’s just a matter of time that everyone knows, if it’s that evident.”

“I hope you're not going all wild on me,” Grace tells him, one long finger pointing at him. “It’s not _evident_ ,” she continues, “I am just that good at noticing things.”

“Youʼve spent way too long around Paul,” he grumbles. 

“I take it you don’t want to do a Macon and come out of the closet through a post over at Austin High Secrets,” Grace says, ignoring his last words. “I’m not going to say anything, not even to Judd. Not that he would notice anyway, he’s kinda blind. But it’s going to blow up if you’re not careful, Reyes.”

Carlos nods. “I just—Iʼm still figuring everything out. And with my parents and the divorce and everything—” he trails off. It's not that he doesn’t want to be out; he knows he's not a freak, he knows it's something normal. But it still irks him to no end that he has to justify himself because his first choice is never a good girl with whom settle down and have a family. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” Grace promises. “I take it you trust Iris not to say anything. You know you can trust me. I just don't want you to suffer, sweetheart. Lord knows youʼve done enough of that already.” 

Carlos wants to hug her so badly that it physically pains him not to, but the bell rings and the girls enter their class before theyʼre called out for being late. He salutes them mockingly to hide his embarrassment, and rushes to his own class. 

He’s only late by a few seconds, but it doesn’t really matter because the teacher enters the room right after him.

* * *

Last period is absolute torture for TK. He isn’t able to focus on anything that's not his own thoughts swirling in his mind, occupying everything. 

He still doesn't understand whatʼs going on between Alex and himself, or between Alex and Mitchell. It should be evident, at least the last part — for everyone else, it’s crystal clear that Mitchell has stolen Alex’s heart and they're together. But TK would have known. He’s sure he would have known. 

After all, heʼs been dating Alex for longer than anyone will ever know. He would have noticed if his boyfriend wasn't all that invested in their relationship. 

It's true that they haven't talked that much this summer. After TK had to leave for New York — an imposition that his father hadn't relented about — and after his phone had been sequestered by his mother, TK hadn't really had any options there. Now, under the light of what Alex has been showing off, TK needs to talk to him. 

In the week since school started, there’s never been a chance for them to be alone together long enough to speak. And, since their whole relationship has been secretive and under wraps due to TKʼs reticence to being outed, it’s not like he can grab his boyfriend and drag him to the eraser room. It would be weird. 

It's weirder that Alex has been avoiding him for seven days, ignoring his messages and his calls and his attempts at mending something that he hadn’t thought was broken. 

Sure, things got heated when TK lost control of what he was using and his father caught him on the verge of overdosing. Alex had blamed it on TK — for being reckless enough to allow his father to find out, and for snitching while at the hospital and saying that Alex had given him the drugs. They had started a terrible fight, but in the end they had made up before TK left for New York. 

Or at least that's what heʼs believed so far. 

Marjan and Mateo are waiting for him at his locker when he drags himself to the spot, tired and defeated. He could chalk it up to being stressed just after a few days of their last year before college — explain that he needs better grades if he wants to snatch one of the scholarships so his parents won't have to slave themselves to pay for his undergrad education — but his friends don't say anything when he approaches them. They only stare down at him as he kicks his locker open and shoves his books inside. 

“Bad day?” is all Mateo says when TK closes the door with a little more force than necessary. 

TK thinks about the way Alex has been staring at Mitchell the whole day, during the classes they all share — which are a few since they had planned to spend as much time together in class as possible — and he sighs. “You could say that.” 

“Let's go watch some soccer,” Marjan suggests nudging him forward. “Seeing Carlos in action has always cheered you up.” 

There’s an underlying accusation there, or at least that's what TK understands. He knows it's been a couple of rough years for them all; he knows that, after he started dating Alex, he stopped hanging out as much as he did before with Carlos. TK alone had created a schism in their group; he had withdrawn from everything he ever knew and loved. 

Maybe the drugs had something to do with that. 

Whatever it was, TK misses his best friend. Paul is amazing, but TK misses the ease with which he could talk to Carlos — no judgment, no questions. Just them both, together, being goofy. He’s found a true friendship as well in Paul Strickland, but he knows the others still mourn the separation their group experienced.

When they arrive at the field, they don’t expect it to be as crowded as they find it. TK marvels at the sheer amount of people packing the bleachers, happy that a sport that doesn’t get as much traction as basketball or football has managed to attract so many supporters, until he sees Alex sitting down by the front, fawning all over Mitchell. His whole clique is around them, occupying half the space.

“Didn’t he have anywhere else to be?” TK mumbles, low enough for no one to pick up on it, although Mateo shoots him a questioning glance. TK shrugs and follows them to the row where Grace and Iris have already saved them some seats. Paul shows up running from the other end of the field; TK remembers that the last class of Paul’s day always runs late because the teacher loves to keep talking even after the bell has rung.

“Here!” Iris calls him, waving until Paul sees them and rushes to their spot.

“Have I missed much?” Paul asks out of breath when he reaches them. 

“Nope,” Grace laughs. “The cheerleaders haven’t even started warming up. You’re in for a show. I’ve seen Nancy Gillian in the lineup.”

They all snicker at Grace’s words. Before Paul started dating Josie — before it all went down the drain in powerful technicolor fireworks — he’d had a very obvious crush on Nancy Gillian, one year younger than them and always in the shadows of everything. He pouts.

“I don’t want anything to do with—”

“Hey, isn’t that Carlos’ father?” Marjan interrupts Paul’s diatribe about whatever he was about to complain. TK has probably heard it all, anyway.

He looks toward the spot where Marjan’s pointing with her index finger, following the movement until his eyes land on an older man — probably younger than TK’s own father Owen, but still — wearing dark chinos and a baby blue shirt. He would have recognized that man anywhere, since he practically grew up in his house.

Pedro Reyes is hardly unforgettable.

TK balls his hands into fists by his sides, the more protective part of his soul raging to be let loose. He’s been angry at Mr. Reyes for the longest time, ever since word caught the town about how he’d been having an affair with another woman for years, to the point of creating a secret family on the side. TK doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive Carlos’ father for wrecking the only happiness his friend had ever had — his family was Carlos’ shelter, and his father had destroyed it that one night when truth unfolded.

TK had been too engrossed in himself — in Alex, in the drugs — to actually realize that what Carlos had needed back then had been a hug and his presence telling him that everything would be alright. But TK had been so out of it that the mere thought of crossing the street and setting foot into Carlos’ yard had felt too big. And then Carlos’ mom had moved them out of the house and into a tiny apartment across town while his father had remained in the neighborhood. TK had never thought he could despise someone so much, but Pedro Reyes is one of the few people that TK can sincerely say that he loathes.

And he’s right now at Carlos’ practice, by the benches, trying to catch his son’s attention. Whenever he isn’t waving at Carlos, or calling Carlos’ name, he’s scrunching his nose at the scene Alex and Mitchell are creating — all hands and mouths and sappy smiles that turn TK’s stomach upside down.

“Excuse me,” he mumbles, moving forward followed closely by Iris. Grace waves them off, and he can hear Marjan swearing under his breath while Mateo and Paul remain silent. TK knows they have their own opinions about Carlos’ father, but Paul is way too prudent to speak out loud, and Mateo has been raised in the belief that his elders are always right, even when they aren’t.

“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch,” Iris promises as they all but run down the stairs on the bleachers, two steps at a time. They stop close to the benches, enough to let Carlos know that they’re there in case he needs them.

By the time they reach the benches, Carlos has already noticed his father and he’s stopped warming up on the sidelines. He tentatively approaches the older man — TK can see the resemblance in their chocolate eyes and the curls that circle wildly both their heads — and he’s already speaking to him in a low voice.

“What are you doing here?” Carlos says. His voice doesn’t quiver, but TK can tell he’s tense.

“I’ve come to see my son. You know, since you’re refusing to come visit with me and your baby brother.”

Carlos stiffens. TK would have punched Pedro Reyes at that moment, but Iris places a manicured hand on top of TK’s to prevent him from moving. This is a war that Carlos needs to fight alone.

“Maybe you should reflect on why I don’t want to go with you on the weekends or the holidays,” Carlos hisses. “Now, please, could you leave? I’m in the middle of soccer practice.”

“I’m not leaving,” his father tells him petulantly. “If you don’t want to come home with me, then it’s my right to come see you at practice. I’m your father after all.”

“Such a way to show it,” Carlos finally explodes. “You went behind mom’s back for years, you cheated on her, you had a son with another woman, and then you had the guts to throw her out of her own home!”

“Are those the lies she’s told you?” his father questions. “After everything, you still believe that—”

“Don’t,” Carlos cuts him. “I don’t want to see you. I don’t want you here. But I guess it’s a free country. I can’t prevent you from attending the practice, but don’t expect me to even interact with you.”

He turns around so he can join his teammates on the field, but Pedro Reyes still has some more things to say.

“That’s what you think now,” his father calls back at him. TK is ready to kill someone right now, and the only reason he isn’t attempting murder is because Iris is already holding him back. “But you’ll change your mind, son. You’ll soon be an adult, and you’ll understand why adults act the way they do sometimes.”

“I don’t care about what _you_ think it’s adult behavior!” Carlos finally snaps, turning around. “You aren’t exactly the model I want to look up at!”

“So long as you don’t end up like _them_ ,” his father says, making a face as he watches Alex giggling at something Mitchell has said, “I think I’ll be fine. You can change your mind about your father, and once you know the whole truth, and not what that bitch you have for mother has told you, you’ll be keener to come visit your brother.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Carlos gives in. “And never, _ever_ , talk about Mom that way. You’re the monster here!”

“No, son,” the older man sentences. “ _They_ are the monsters. That’s so antinatural, so against everything I have ever taught you. It’s a good thing that you’re an athlete. Everyone knows athletes aren’t inverted like these two.” 

There’s a snarl in Pedro’s voice that breaks some dam inside TK. He feels himself deflate as a feeling of defeat floods through him. He can’t stop the thoughts from reaching every single corner of his soul — he can’t help the fear and despair rising, but he also kind of congratulates himself on never having come out to Carlos anyway. 

What if Carlos believes what his father thinks as well? What if Carlos thinks TK — and the people like TK — aren’t just lost until they find their other half, but they’re some sort of monsters who don’t deserve to be happy?

TK would never survive that. 

“TK, what’s wrong?” Iris asks when he sits down on the closest bench, his wobbly legs not allowing him to keep standing up.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. “Just—”

“Reyes!” Coach Leed bellows. “I don’t care who came to visit, I need you on the field right _now_!”

Carlos shakes his head at his father and starts walking away. TK is too focused on breathing normally again that he almost misses the moment Carlos turns around and says, with more venom in his voice than any of his friends has ever heard coming out of him, “Don’t ever come back to see me. You’re the antinatural one!” before he joins his teammates in the center.

TK blinks back tears, and when he’s able to stand up again with Iris’ help, Pedro Reyes is nowhere to be seen, but Alex and Mitchell — and their whole clique — are staring down at Carlos and whispering. TK knows they will only fodder the rumor mill later on, and he wishes he were braver, so he could stand up for Carlos.

As it is, he walks back to their place on the bleachers and explains that he’s been stressing so much these past days, that he’s most probably suffering from a bit of dehydration, and accepts the bottle of water that Grace offers to him, ignoring Marjan’s frown and Paul’s inquisitive stare. Instead, he fixes his gaze on the field, and allows his heart to get slowly back to normal.


	4. chapter 3 ~ the confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is where everything gets _interesting_. please don't hate on me, ok? i promise it will be fine... soonish.
> 
>  **warnings:** mentions of homophobia, mentions of vomiting

The library is almost deserted when Carlos sets foot in it, hands nervously forming fists at his sides as he balances his backpack on one of his shoulders. He greets Ms. Kearney when he passes by her, and asks for a free computer. She points her toward the spot furthest from the door with a smile.

“I know you like your privacy, Carlos,” she says softly, her blonde locks falling softly on her back as she speaks. “Just don’t miss your next class.”

“I won’t, Ms. Kearney,” he promises. He can tell she’s not buying his words for a second — he’s already skipping class to stay here, but he can pass his Spanish class in his sleep, and since he’s been running late to his first class today, he’s decided to just skip it altogether.

“You better,” she tells him in what should sound like a threatening voice, but she’s smiling so gently that he has to replicate it.

He sits down on the chair, nails scraping at the wooden surface as he moves the keyboard and the mouse to accommodate his needs, and types down the URL he wants to check on the empty bar on top of the navigation page.

It’s been on his mind for days on end now, nagging at the back of his brain at every single second of every single day, until all he could think about was spilling his guts into some anonymous webpage that everyone in the school — and quite a few people outside it — check regularly.

The thing is, he has a secret. It’s a big one, a secret that could turn his world into upheaval and wreckage. He’s lived with it ever since he was thirteen and he realized that what he felt whenever he got lost in impossibly green eyes wasn’t some platonic, friendly feeling. It was deeper than that.

It scares him to no end that people can find out. He has a reputation to uphold — he’s a soccer star at the school team, after all — and his parents would throw a fit if they discovered about his _tendencies_. He’s been around enough to know his father’s thoughts on the matter — how he thinks that it’s a disease that can, and _should_ , be cured — and he knows his mother would never contradict him, no matter what. Carlos is alone with his feelings, and he’s been at a loss as to how to act on them for the longest time.

He can’t stand the sleepless nights anymore, so he’s chosen to take matters into his own hands and unburden his soul in the best way he’s thought of.

However, now that he’s done the hardest part, now that he’s here and ready to start tying down his thoughts, suddenly his brain has gone blank and he’s breaking a sweat.

He can’t do this.

His fingers hover over the keyboard, the screen blinking back at him as he stares up at it. There are words scattering the lines of the blog he has open in front of him, letters and symbols blurred by his own unshed tears. 

Austin High Secrets is his last resort, but he is desperate enough to turn to the least likely way to find help. Every day there are different posts on the blog, talking gossip about someone at the school, and they always had tons of notes and comments. Austin High Secrets is the best way to get a pulse on the schoolʼs underlying stance on _anything_ , and he plans on using that to his advantage. 

If only he could type down what his heart wants to share. 

It's not that he wants _help_. He isn’t sure anyone can really help him with his queries. It’s more about unloading his heart and finding solace for his soul. Maybe Austin High Secrets isn’t the best place for that, but short of a therapy group, it is the most anonymous space for him to yell at the world. Since he doesn’t think he needs therapy — no matter what his father believes — the blog has ended up being the best of his options. 

He sighs. There’s no one around him in the library, and the computer is shied enough from the rest of the room. He just needs to create a fake email account to associate to his post and then it's just writing words down, smashing the keyboard with his feelings. 

It should be easy, but it isn’t. 

He starts and scratches his words so many times that the screen becomes a blur, the pointer moving from left to right and backward so fast that he almost misses it. His fingers tremble as they rest on the keys, too tired to function properly.

He lists his fake email and allows the system to display it, just in case someone wants to talk to him. He knows there might be some insults — showing an email to contact him feels like calling for the attacks — but it’s easier to dart expletives when they’re thrown at him in a virtual environment. He’s only left with a nickname to show, a word to sign the post, since he isn’t setting it up as anonymous. 

He settles for _Carey_ , and hits the send button before he can second-guess himself. There’s a message from the blog telling him that his post is queued now and that it will show up later in the day. He breathes deeply in; he doesn’t have to be wary of how people gossip about the new post on the blog — he doesn’t have to worry about being recognized at school by the way he words his thoughts until tomorrow. 

He grabs his brown backpack from the floor and flings it over his right shoulder, the bag swaying against his back as he half jogs, half walks outside of the library. When he checks the clock above the door after bidding Ms. Kearney goodbye in his best whispering voice, he realizes he’s going to be late for Algebra. He pounces into the lonely corridors, the students already getting into their classes, and he rushes through the halls until he reaches the last corner before the door to his class, where he stops abruptly when he hears vaguely familiar voices that seem to come from the other side of the corner.

He frowns, slowing down until he’s almost pressed against the walls separating him from the voices.

“That’s too bad,” one of the voices say. His frown deepens as he tries to place it in his mind. “You should learn how to lose elegantly, pretty boy. Or else.”

“Or else what?” comes another voice, and this time he has to bite back a surprised yelp because he definitely recognizes _that voice_.

“Or else everyone in Austin High will know about your little filthy secret, pretty boy,” the first voice replies, almost nonchalantly. “And I know you’re too much of a scared piece of shit to want that.”

“Wait, please!” the second voice, the one he recognizes but still has trouble reconciling in this situation, begs. “You can't do that! I—I will tell the whole school! I will tell everyone how you—you—”

“How I what? Why would I ever listen to anything you have to say, pretty boy? You're just another pretty face with a secret. Nobody would believe you, so I wouldn’t even try if I were you,” the first voice says in a final tone. He can hear rustle as though someone’s picking a backpack, the straps hitting _somewhere_ , and that’s all the warning he has before the voices die and there’s someone turning the corner around.

He watches agape as Alex Macon struts down the corridor, not even noticing him, his hands around the straps of his backpack as he walks toward his next class. When he turns around the corner, there’s no one there, and he’s left with a weird feeling constricting his chest.

“I know I haven’t dreamed that voice,” he mutters to himself as he puts one step in front of the other and reaches the Algebra class. He pushes the door open in time to see TK Strand claiming a desk by the end of the classroom. There’s no teacher yet, for which he’s grateful. He finds a seat next to TK, and tries to focus on the task of unloading his backpack instead of giving into his desire to reach out and shake his friend.

He’s known TK Strand for the past seven years — ever since Owen Strand was offered a position at Station 126 and he brought his son with him. They’ve been close for _eons_ ; there was even a time when the rest of their group would tease them about how they seemed joined by the hip. He had been able to tell what TK had been thinking with just one glance, but way before Paul Strickland barrelled into their lives the year before, TK had drifted away from him.

And now he has something going on with Alex Macon, Austin High School’s heartthrob and known troublemaker.

Carlos shakes his head. They may not be as close as they once were, and it may be his sole fault — what with him withdrawing from TK the moment he realized the huge crush he had on his friend — but they're still part of the same group and he still cares deeply about TK. 

Carlos plans on catching him after class, but when the bell rings TK grabs his things haphazardly and runs out of the classroom, leaving Carlos hanging, one hand outstretched so he could touch TK. He hears a low whistle at his left, and when he looks up he sees Paul frowning. A few desks up front, Marjan and Mateo are sharing confused looks, and even Grace and Judd — who are usually too engrossed in each other to notice anything else — seem to have seen TK thundering outside. Iris, on the other hand, is quietly inspecting her nails. 

“Iʼll catch him later,” Paul promises. “I don't know what's going on, but he wasn't this upset this morning when he picked us up to come here.” 

Carlos knows he should speak up. He should tell them heʼs heard Alex threatening TK, but he knows nobody would believe him. Alex is one of the most popular kids in the school — out and proud, handsome and so sure of himself, and even his grades are the best of the whole promotion. Besides, Carlos isn’t really sure about what heʼs overheard. It could be nothing, just playful banter. Maybe heʼs blowing things out of proportion. 

He nods at Paulʼs words and follows his friends out of the room. He trusts Paul to find TK and talk some reason into him before lunch — ever since Paul arrived to Austin, heʼs proved to be an excellent listener and a great mind reader. He always knows whatʼs going on and he always knows what to say. 

Carlos thinks it has to do with the fact that Paul grew up in a place where he couldn’t be himself, and he had to constantly watch over his shoulder to assess the situation. That had changed for a while after his brother moved them both to Texas, until Josie had gone out on a date with him and spilled his biggest secret — the one heʼd been hesitant to tell _them_ — for everyone to know. 

Paul had changed after that, heʼd become more guarded and distrustful, until they as a group had sat him down to tell him that they didn’t care about how he became Paul Strickland — they cared about who he was now. 

If anyone can see through TKʼs soul, that's Paul. Carlos is sure of that. 

It doesn’t help the rising dread heʼs feeling in his gut as he drags his feet to his last class before lunch.

* * *

There’s a spot under the bleachers that has become TK’s favorite in the almost four years that he’s been attending S.F. Austin High School. It’s not particularly covert, and it’s _definitely_ muddy enough that TK always ends up with dirt up his sweatpants whenever he sits down there to escape from the noisy world around him. It’s the place that holds most of his secrets — from the different crushes that he’s had over the years to the most painful realities of his life. His friends know that it’s there where they can find him after a particularly rough basketball practice, or when Principal Marquez has been especially hard on him for one reason or the other.

They also know when to leave him alone under the bleachers, backpack askew by his side and his legs pulled up to his chest while he fixes his gaze into the vacuous space before him. Although apparently today is not the day when they will let him be, if the sound of footsteps approaching is anything to go by.

“Is there room for another brokenhearted soul?” comes a voice from above him. When he looks up, bleary eyes and quivering lips, he can see his best friend Paul standing tall against the bleachers’ structure. “Looks like misery would love the company.”

“I’m not heartbroken,” TK huffs, moving further away to make room for Paul over the less dirty patch of land. “Neither are you.”

“Let me be the judge of my own feelings, Strand,” Paul scolds him. He flops down beside his friend, dropping his own backpack next to TK’s. “Why are we hiding today?”

TK can pinpoint the exact moment when his day has gone down the drain, but that doesn’t mean he wants to acknowledge the source of his distress. Instead, he remains unmoving and silent under the bleachers, while the sounds of the cheerleaders practicing their calls fill the air with a cheerfulness he can’t share.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Paul keeps on. He pulls his legs up against his chest mimicking TK’s stance. “But I’d love to share my reason for coming here today.”

“Other than interrupting my perfectly fine alone time?” TK snaps. He kicks at the dirt with the tip of his sneakers, lifting dust around them.

“Yeah,” Paul deadpans. “Not everything is about you, Strand,” he reminds TK. “You’re lucky I love you, man.”

TK shakes his head. “Sorry, Paul. Didn’t mean to snap at you. Today’s been… not the best, to be honest.”

“I can tell,” Paul huffs in reply. “I’ve seen you rush out after Algebra.”

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” TK whispers. He can feel tears welling up again in his eyes, and he wipes at them angrily. He doesn’t want to cry, not here and definitely not in front of Paul Strickland — the strongest guy TK has ever met. “Tell me about your hell of a day.”

“Ms. Benson has put Josie and I together for the Chem project this semester,” Paul mutters. “Only three weeks in and I already want to hide for the rest of the year.”

“Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry,” TK says, sitting up and reaching out to touch his friend, all his personal problems forgotten in the wake of Paul’s more than evident distress. “Have you tried to talk to Ms. Benson and tell her that you two can’t work together?”

“No. She said there would be no changes under any circumstances, no matter how dire.” Paul laughs mirthlessly. “She was looking right up at us as she spoke.”

“She’s an old hag, that’s what she is,” TK exclaims. There’s a tinge of sympathy in his voice as he speaks. Paul nods slightly.

“Mateo’s tried to swap partners too,” he explains. “But Ms. Benson has crushed him. Said something about how mediocre students always want out of difficult tasks.”

“Such a bitch! Who has she paired Mateo with?”

“Judd Ryder.”

“And Mateo wanted to give Ryder up for Josie?” TK smiles at Paul. “That kid really loves you, Strickland.”

There’s a lull in their conversation as Paul leans into the dirty structure of the bleachers, letting go of his legs. “It just hurts, you know. She goes about her life as though she didn’t try to end _mine_ last year, and I have to suck it up and I can't complain,” Paul whispers. TK can hear the hurt behind the words. 

“I just wish you hadn't had to go through that last year,” he tells his best friend. 

It had been horrible, TK recalls. He had had to sit through the entire school ripping Paul to shreds after Josie Grant had shared his most personal secret. He hadn’t been allowed to step up and defend his friend — Paul had strictly forbidden it — so the most TK had been able to do was sit around and hold Paulʼs hand whenever things got _more_ complicated. 

“Me too,” Paul sighs. “But I can't do anything about it anymore. And frankly, I am tired of fighting back. I just want this year to end so I can move on and go somewhere where being myself isn’t considered a sin.”

TK throws an arm around Paulʼs shoulders and brings him closer to his chest in a locked one-side hug that has them both laughing and covered in mud. “You and I both, Strickland. You and I both.” 

They remain silent beneath the bleachers for a few moments, until Mateoʼs voice carries on through the air, calling out for them. Too much for a little time alone, TK thinks before standing to his feet. He tries to dust off his sweatpants but the motion is to no avail — there’s a suspicious stain right below his right knee that he canʼt shake off. 

“Move your lazy asses out here or weʼll be late for lunch!” Marjan pipes in. TK shares a look with Paul and they both burst out in giggles. Marjan Marwani, the only girl in their group, is actually the one to keep them in check. She never hesitates in calling them out when needed, and she’s always supported by Mateoʼs presence without fail. 

TK would joke about it if he didn’t feel like there’s something more to that than what he can see. 

“We better go,” Paul nudges TK forward. He bends to grab his backpack and throws TKʼs his way. “I don't want to face Marwaniʼs wrath.” 

“I heard you!” 

TK follows Paul outside to meet his other two best friends, who are waiting for them with arms crossed and feet tapping on the ground, wearing matching mocking glares. TK is thankful every day for having met Marjan Marwani and Mateo Chavez that first day in middle school, when he was just the new kid in town. They welcomed him in, treated him well, and never questioned his weird choices. Even now, seven years and so many shenanigans later, TK knows he can trust them not to enter his little bubble when he needs to be alone. 

“Do you think weʼre getting Bratwurst today?” he teases his friends when heʼs finally face to face with them. 

“Knowing Tyson, there won't even be non-pork alternatives,” Marjan whines. 

They start their way back to the cafeteria, where they know Billy Tyson, in charge of the lunch schedule, will most probably have found a way to offend the minorities once again. So far, in the time TK has been attending Austin High School, Billy Tyson has managed to dismiss the suggestions of three different ethnical groups regarding their needs. 

Upon entering the cafeteria, TKʼs eyes begin to search the crowd scattered around the space. He tries to be subtle about it when Paul points out that heʼs staring. 

“Iʼm trying to find a table for the eight of us,” he lies, gesturing toward the far end of the room where a couple of tables are still empty. 

“Are you sure you don't need glasses, TK?” Mateo asks innocently. “Carlos, Judd and the girls are down there, on our usual table, waiting for us.” Mateo marks his words by waving toward the other part of their group. 

“Hadnʼt seen them,” TK grumbles, rubbing at his face before taking one tray and situating himself on the queue. He canʼt confess that he was actually looking for Alex — for a sign that he hasnʼt definitely messed everything up this morning — but he doesn’t seem to spot him. 

“Looking for someone?” Paul teases him. 

TK shrugs. “Making sure Josie isn’t around, that's all.” 

They move along the queue, picking their food as the go; they have to wait while Marjan fights, once again, with Billy Tyson because he hasnʼt prepared anything non-pork today either. 

“One day, sheʼs going to combust,” Paul sighs. “I don't know why Principal Marquez doesn’t file a complaint against him. Marjan canʼt be the only one suffering his discrimination.” 

“Well, she's the only openly Muslim student in the whole school,” Mateo reminds them. He grabs one of his fries and munches on it while Marjan joins them fuming. 

“The nerve!” she is mumbling. “I can't wait for the year to end so I can leave this nightmare of a town.” 

“Seems to be a general feeling today,” TK tries to lighten the mood. Paul shoots him a glare and he shuts up, but not before his words have carried to the table where the rest of their group are waiting for them. 

“What general feeling?” Judd pipes in. 

“Wanting this year to end, so we can leave Austin,” TK explains. 

“I don't really want it to end,” Mateo mutters, taking a seat across Marjan and beside Grace. “I don't want us to go on separate ways.” 

“Awww, someone's moody today,” Iris mocks him, flicking his ear. 

“Iris!” Carlos calls her put, swatting her arm and making her stop harassing Mateo. “Heʼs not the only one who doesn’t want our little group to disintegrate. God knows I don’t, either.” He looks straight into TKʼs eyes as he speaks; TK, who has taken a seat in front of him and at the other side of Grace, and who currently has his fork halfway to his mouth, full to the brim with sausage and something that looks suspiciously like coleslaw. 

TK, who's back at scanning the room until he finally spots Alex at another table, laughing around and leaning into Mitchell Callaway so hard that it seems as though Alex is trying to fuse them together. 

“Teek?” Carlos questions, waving a hand before his eyes. “Are you okay? You kinda spaced out here for a bit.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” he rushes to reply, focusing back on the conversation around them, as Paul tells them about the disaster that Ms. Bensonʼs class has been and Judd and Mateo join in retelling how theyʼve tried to swap teams without any success. The whole group coos and supports Paul — Iris shifts her attention from the conversation to her nails at some point, clearly bored — while TK feigns an interest heʼs lost, along with his appetite, from the moment heʼs seen Alex with Mitchell. 

The sound of laughter carried through the air, the shrieks and hiccups catching everyone's attention. TK has to look down at his tray again when Alex covers Mitchellʼs hand with his own. Carlos wrinkles his nose in disgust when the whole table turns to watch Alex and Mitchell putting on a full display. 

“Hadn't pegged you for a homophobe, Reyes,” Paul says. 

“You know Iʼm not,” Carlos is quick to reply. “I just want to eat my lunch in peace. I don't need Macon and Callaway to make it impossible for us to listen to each other.” 

TK remains silent as the table around him explodes between the ones who agree with Carlos and the ones who think he's jealous because Alex and Mitchell made it to the basketball team while Carlos had only passed the soccer trials. 

He can only think about how much it hurts to see Alex touching Mitchell. 

When the conversation around him resumes, TK finds himself unable to follow it. He pushes his food around, ignoring the stares that he can see Paul shooting his way, and in the end he stands up, excusing himself before running out of the cafeteria. 

He barely makes it to the bathroom before heʼs throwing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun facts about writing this chapter!
> 
> * the fake post has been generated with [fake facebook post generator](https://generatestatus.com/fake-facebook-post-generator/). if you know of other pages or apps where you can make a fake blog post that doesn't look like a major social media posts, let me know!


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